


Invisible and Microscopic Flaws

by overthemoon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Pining, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overthemoon/pseuds/overthemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Once a month on a Wednesday, Molly Hooper took a cup of coffee (black, two sugars) to the basement lab at Barts and talked to the empty air.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock visits St. Barts and meets Molly for the first time in three years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible and Microscopic Flaws

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by this gifset on tumblr](http://makethemintoshoes.tumblr.com/post/44930753597)   
>  [Tumblr Version](http://overthemoonwriting.tumblr.com/post/47833221250)

Once a month on a Wednesday, Molly Hooper took a cup of coffee (black, two sugars) to the basement lab at Barts and talked to the empty air. She sat in front of a long abandoned microscope, idly chatting for however long it took to finish the slowly cooling drink. Since He never did talk to Molly over coffee, this was her way of remembering what might have been, to attempt to cleanse herself of guilt and regret. On this Wednesday, Molly curled her tired hands around the ceramic cup, and used her elbow to push open the door.

A pale man in a sharply creased suit sat at her (the abandoned) microscope. “Excuse me,” Molly began. “Visitors are-” The man looked up. “What are you doing here?” Sherlock’s eyebrows drooped slightly and he looked away from Molly. Molly bit her lip and tightened both of her hands around the coffee mug. “Aren’t you, um, busy?” Shivers vibrated inside her spine. He looked the same as … before, not a crack on the marbled cheekbones, no soft curls of dark hair out place.

“Not at the moment,” Sherlock said. His long fingers turned a mobile phone over in his hands. Molly felt the old hatefully magnetic pull and walked forward, watching as Sherlock looked down at the empty microscope. “My business is... complete, as far as I can tell.” 

“So you’ll stay now?” Molly set the cup down on the lab bench and pushed it towards him as a peace offering, not that he would ever understand the point of a peace offering. She smiled shyly at him with lipstick coated-lips (not too small now). Sherlock didn’t reach for the coffee, continuing to twiddle the phone. 

Sherlock huffed and slipped the phone into his pocket. “That was the plan, indeed.” His voice wasn’t as charming or sharp as Molly remembered. The bite that came from stating the obvious was gone.

“Have you talked to him already?” she asked. Molly hasn’t seen John for several months, but the last time she saw him, the new gray streaks in his hair made her cry in the office bathroom for ten minutes. The dark circles under John’s eyes have deepened into a carved shadow. Molly could see the battle raging inside John, but there’s nothing dead yet. Her hands only suture the shells of bodies, not those who lie shattered inside in them.

“Not yet. Don’t really know how. It’s complicated.” Coldness crept into Sherlock’s voice to shield the vulnerability Sherlock shouted from his hunched shoulders. Molly can see how smooth the (armored) suit is. Its newness whispered from the unclipped tag peeking out from the collar, where Sherlock’s black curly hair fails to cover the bruises on the back of his neck. The mobile buzzed inside Sherlock’s pocket and he slides the mobile out, checking the messages. 

Sherlock stood up, and Molly pressed her lips together, furrowed in worry, as he stepped away from her (again). The magnetic pull dissipated from the air, leaving Molly untethered once more.

“Anyway... I need to go now.” He nodded politely to her as he turned, heading for the door. Molly’s mouth corners lifted in a sad smile. So she’s back to being extra hands and wallpaper then. “My brother needs me... Thank you, Molly.”

The wooden door of the lab closed with a soft thump. Molly sighed and sat down on recently vacated stool, curling her hands around the cold cup of coffee. She sipped, and frowned at the bitter taste.

“So, how have you been?” she asks the empty air.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the Kudos/Comments. Thanks to Monster and Pretty Arbitrary in the Antidiogenes warroom for helping me sort a few knotty sentences out.  
> Did I make you cry? :P Haha, hopefully not.


End file.
